


Tell Me Something I don't Already Know

by Summertime_saddness



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon up to season 5, Full Shift, Healing, Malia needs some time, Malia-centric, Minor Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski, Multi, Past Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate, very indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-07 22:38:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12241983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Summertime_saddness/pseuds/Summertime_saddness
Summary: Malia figures out how to full shift back into a coyote after her mother is killed.





	Tell Me Something I don't Already Know

**Author's Note:**

> I started this story in the middle of season 5 and then forgot about it. All the Malia/scott of season 6 reminded me of this and inspired me to finish it up. The timeline is a bit of a mess, but I guess it takes place right after Lydia gets hurt (Which time! ha!) and they are on track to kill the desert wolf.

Malia figures out how to shift back into a coyote after her mother is killed. It’s easy, once she lets go, feels her naked human skin give way to soft fur, her bones shift and bend, forcing her down to all fours. It feels right. She’s finally where she belongs. She shifts back to human just to make sure that she can, goes to make sure that the rest of the pack is safe and accounted for. 

Lydia’s alive, Stiles a permanent fixture by her side. She finds Stiles alone while he’s getting coffee from the machine by the front desk of the hospital. He smells terrible, like sweat and anxiety and the bleached linen of Lydia’s hospital bed. He’s wearing sweatpants she’s never seen before and a flannel shirt with a hole down the front. He looks wrecked. 

“Hey,” She says, watching him insert his coins into the slot of the machine, the gentle hum of the mechanisms coming to life.

Stiles glances over at her, blinking rapidly like he’s trying not seem too surprised to see her standing there. 

“Hey,” he answers tiredly, looking quickly away as he starts pressing the black buttons on the keypad, making the coffee maker inside begin to whir. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I’m Lydia’s friend too.” Malia said tersely, watching Stiles shut his eyes briefly at her words.

“Malia…”

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m going away.” Malia interrupted, tugging some of her hair back behind her ears. She’s jittery, excited, she could practically feel the fur fighting to break through her feeble human skin. “For a while.”

Stiles finally looked at her, his eyes wide. “Where are you going? With your dad?”

Malia shook her head. Reaching into her pocket and pulling out an envelope, holding it out for Stiles to grab. 

“Can you give this to your dad?” She asks seriously. Her face betraying nothing.

Stiles looked dazed, reaching up to grab at the letter and glancing down as if to read through the envelope’s heavy paper.

“OK, but - ” 

“OK.” Malia said, her voice final, she was already turning to leave, her eyes searching for the entrance doors.

She doesn’t look back.

 

Malia punched her claws through all four tires of Stiles’ jeep, the pop and hiss of the air escaping perversely satisfying. She knows that he’ll know it was her, that slashes she makes on the Jeep’s blue siding could only come from claw marks. Good, she thinks darkly. 

 

She disappears into the woods after that, going deeper and deeper, until she reaches the clearing she used to call home. It looks just the way it when she had first left it, the ground all soft green grass, the canopy of trees overhead making the sun filter gently through the leaves. She strips then, throwing her shirt, pants, underwear behind the large, jagged rocks that are spread around the space, burying her shoes in the roots of the giant oak that stands in the edge. She stands in the middle, naked, and breathes in the life of the woods around her. The soft murmuring of the wind in the leaves, the subtle rush of the river a mile deeper, the quiet pitter of birds hopping from branch to branch. She exhales slowly, and shifts. 

 

Malia stays in the woods for a month. 

 

She’s laying in a sunny patch of grass when she smells him. That achingly familiar scent of warm skin and fresh laundry, the spicy hint of cinnamon and wood. She continues licking her forepaws, keeping her eyes trained on where she knows Scott is coming, the faint hint of Kira surrounding him. She doesn’t know what to expect when he finally breaks through the treeline and spots her. 

She thinks he might be angry, might yell at her for leaving, for staying out in the woods for weeks, without saying goodbye. But instead Scott just looks at her, sighs, and sits down next to her, pulling out a out a couple of sandwiches. Lettuce, turkey, and bacon by the smell of it. 

She lifts her head in interest and Scott unwraps one carefully before placing it gently on the ground near where Malia’s head rests on her paws. He looks different, older, yet more solid and confident than he did when she had seen him last. He looks tired, like he had been staying up too late and worrying more than he should, but his shoulders are more relaxed, his demeanor comfortable. They sat there is silence for nearly an hour, eating their sandwiches, following the sunlight as it moved to different patches of the woods. 

“Everyone’s been pretty worried about you.” Scott said, finally breaking the silence. “Especially after they found out about the thank you letter you wrote to the Sheriff.” Scott snorted softly, let some of the red bleed into his eyes as he used a shifted claw to overturn a stone at his feet. 

“It freaked The Sheriff and Lydia out a lot, you made everything sound so final: ‘Thanks for everything, you were my family,’” Scott flings the stone into the bushes, watching the trees rustle. 

“But I told them all you went on a trip with Braeden, got her to cover for you.”

Malia stills, glancing up at him, tilting her head slightly to the side in silent question.

“Of course I knew you were here,” Scott says, like it’s obvious, like Malia was stupid for even trying to hide. 

“You’re pack.” He stated simply. 

She rose slightly up, sitting back on her hunches, a low whine in her throat. Scott reaches a steadying hand out, gently pressing it down against her neck. Malia couldn’t help the soft sound that rose from her throat, the feeling of warmth and steadying strength charging through her from the contact. 

“No one else knows you’re here.” Scott said gently, leaning forward to rest his forehead against the top of Malia’s fur covered head. “I figured you needed the time, wanted the space. I could still feel you, you know, since you’re pack. I knew you were OK.”

They slip back into silence after that and after another hour, Scott stands up to go, promising to come back. That he won’t tell anyone if she doesn’t want him too.

 

Scott comes back a few days later. This time he brings steak tips and soft blanket that smells like Lydia and Kira and Chai tea. 

“They made it,” He says, smiling brightly as Malia sniffs it and then lays across it in approval. “They think you are in Canada exploring with Derek and Braeden.”

Malia snorts, rolling on her back to look at the sun through the green leaves of the trees above her. She feels safe, happy, and warm. The gentle smell of Scott and affection wafting over her. She feels slightly guilty about leaving without saying anything, but Scott had promised that they understood. She did just kill her own mother after all. 

This time Scott brought some reading with him, and he read out loud, using different voices for each character, making Malia huff in amusement. 

This time, when Scott leaves, he promises to leave some books with her next time, incase she wants to shift back and read a little bit on her own. She rolls her eyes at him, the best she can do, and just curls deeper into the blanket. 

 

The next time Scott comes it’s drizzling slightly, but he sets up a small green and brown tent against the oak tree in Malia’s clearing and they hole in there. He’s brought a scarf this time, knitted and huge. It smells like Melissa and nutmeg. 

“Mom, was worried you might be cold. She’s really into knitting right now.” 

Malia bumps it with her nose until Scott, laughing, gets the hint and wraps it around her lithe body, the deep purple contrasting with her pale fur. 

Scott updates her on how everyone is doing, what Braeden and Derek are really doing in Canada, that Lydia cut her hair, how Isaac sent him a postcard from France where he lives with some guy they used to know named Jackson. 

“I think I sort of had a crush on him,” Sotts says, chuckling slightly. “I think it was the cheekbones.”

Scott never mentions Stiles. 

 

A few weeks after Scott first started visiting, he comes to clearing smelling slightly nervous and even more like Kira than he usually does. Malia gives Scott a judgemental look for the last part, she does not need to smell Scott and Kira’s combined sexual scent. 

“I wanted you know though,” Scott says, watching her carefully. “Kira and I are sort of living together right now. My mom is on a trip for the next week and her parents are back in New York for the next two. I wanted to know if you wanted to come back with me, you know, take a hot shower, maybe say hi to the pack?” 

Malia blinked at him, betraying nothing. 

“I told Kira you were out here.” Scott says quietly. 

Malia rolls her eyes, leaning over to nip him slightly in the leg. Scott half heartedly shoves her away with an eye roll on his own. 

“Malia, I think you should come with me.” He says softly, turning to reach into his backpack. He pulls out some of her old clothes, they smell freshly washed, like detergent and Scott’s house. He places them gently on a rock.

“I’m going to go over there,” He points his thumb back to where he walked from. “And I’ll wait there for ten minutes. If you want to come, just follow me.”

He gets up then, reaches down to run his fingers along Malia’s neck before straightening fully. He gives her an encouraging grin and walks back towards where Malia knows there’s a pathway. 

She stares after him. She’s been a coyote for a full six weeks now, only shifted back a few times to flip the pages of a book Scott had left her, or wanted to climb a tree to scope out the scenery. But Scott was her Alpha, whatever that meant, and she knew he had her best interest at heart. She shifted back, letting the fur recede back into her body, her bones shift and bend, her form morphing back into a human shape. A hot shower did sound nice.

 

Kira hugs her for a full minute when she gets to their house. She’s grinning widely, and there are pink streaks in her hair and a tattoo that looks a lot like a tiny version of Scott’s inside her wrist.

“Malia! I’ve missed you so much.”

Malia is surprised how much she missed Kira, how tightly she grips her back, burying her nose into her Kira’s neck, breathing in the scent of her. Kira just laughs and holds Malia just as tightly.  
When Malia finally pulls away, Kira brings her hand up gently to Malia’s cheek, brushing under her eyes. 

“What?” Malia asks, pulling back slightly.

“You’re crying,” Kira says gently, her mouth a sad, soft smile. “It’s OK. I get sad sometimes too.”

 

Malia spends the next two weeks getting used to being in human form again. It’s a lot easier with Kira and Scott there, to gently tease her when she growls, to help her remember how to ride a bike, to hold her in the middle of the night when she cries, the heavy devastation of the past few months, no, year, finally crashing down around her. It feels like tidal waves pulling her body in different directions, trying to rip her apart. Malia lays between them in Kira’s bed, Kira petting her hair while Scott gently holds her hand, reminding her that she is safe, that she is loved. 

Lydia comes over, shows Malia her new shorter hair, asks for directions on how to style it. Malia recognizes it for what it is, it’s Lydia’s version of a tight hug and words like “I was really worried about you.”

Malia doesn’t know anything about styling hair and Lydia knows it, but they spend an afternoon in the backyard, sitting in the summer sun trying to do french braids. It’s fun.

No one mentions Stiles.

She can smell him on them. On Lydia mostly, in ways that make her skin feel tight and the urge to shift rips through her. But she stays calm, clinical.

When she asks Lydia if her and Stiles are together, Lydia doesn’t pretend, doesn’t lie.

“Yes.” She says simply, and Malia nods and they go back to shopping for new yarn for Mrs. McCall’s birthday.

 

With everything going on, it was easy for the pack to make up some excuse for Malia’s sudden lack of school attendance. Malia was dimly surprised to hear that it was Stiles who covered for her, found a way for her still graduate with them in May. The first time she see’s him, in the hallway at school, she can smell the guilt on him from 11 lockers down. Lydia’s next to him, fixing her hair in the mirror attached to her locker door.

“You’re back.” He says softly when she approaches them, spine straight and face emotionless. 

“Yeah,” is all she says, giving Lydia a small smile when she turns around at Malia’s voice. She walks away after that, there’s really nothing else to say. 

 

Malia somehow finds herself with Scott and Kira nearly all the time, when she’s not hanging out with Lydia, or learning how to skype with Braeden and Derek. She shows them her clearing in the woods and her and Scott shift into beta form, play fighting, while kira laughs, using sticks to practice her swordplay. 

It’s easy with them, both of them with their gentle words and quiet strength. They keep Malia calm, grounded. 

 

The first time Kira kisses her, it’s the middle of July, it’s been two months since her return to the human world, as Kira liked to call it. They are back out in the woods, having stripped off their shoes and shirts too lay in the shady part of the grass while Scott had run back to the car to grab the water bottles they had forgotten. Kira had been laughing at something Malia had just said, mouth open and wide, before leaning in, smile still on her mouth, to press her lips softly against Malia’s.

Kira tasted like warm honey, the freshness of the outdoors and salt. Her mouth was soft against Malia’s and slightly wet from where her mouth was parted. Malia jerked back, surprised and more than a little wary. There were a lot of things she didn’t, and suspected never would, understand about human relationships, but she knew enough to understand what cheating was, that it was wrong. 

 

Kiria had turned bright red, her smiling face turned into a tight, surprised, grimace. Her mouth still comically open.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, “I-I, well. I, Malia.” Kira blinked helplessly. “Sorry.” She murmured. 

Malia just nodded slowly. “I’m confused.”

“Oh, well, I, um,” Kira made another helpless gesture with her hand. “Am attracted to you? Well, more than that, I like you? I like you. I like you a lot.”

Malia just stared, blinking rapidly as she tried to wrap her mind around Kira’s actions. Kira was still rambling, saying something about how Malia makes her feel like she can do anything and how her hair smells like her favorite flowers.

“Wait,” Malia interrupts, shaking her head quickly, “What about Scott?”

Kira is breathing heavily, face still red. “I, what about Scott? Scott agrees with me.”

Malia can not understand this at all. Before she even ask what exactly that means, Scott comes jogging back into the clearing, water bottles in one hand and a new pack of granola bars in the other. He slows when he catches sight of them, his eyes narrowing.

“What's going on?” He asks slowly, pausing a few feet away from them.

Kira flushes an even deeper red and begins playing the ends of her shorts. 

“Well, I um,” she begins awkwardly, “I kissed Malia.” 

Scott groans. “Kira! I thought we were going to talk to her together.”

Kira gave Scott an apologetic smile. “I know, I’m sorry. It just happened!”

Malia stares in confusion, her body feeling tense and unsure. She wants to shift.

“What are you talking about?” She says, feeling the press of the coyote against her.

Scott sighed, sharing a look with Kira.

“Look, Malia. We like you, both of us.” Scott pauses, scratching at his chin awkwardly. “We like you as...more than a friend. Like a… -”

“Girlfriend!” Kira interjects excitedly, “We want to date you like a girlfriend.”

Malia stares as Scott nods in agreement. 

“I like both of you too…” Malia begins slowly, “But how does that work? I mean, there’d be three of us…”

Scotts shrugged before sitting down on the grass next to Kira, wrapping an arm around her lean shoulders.

“I don’t know, how does any of this work? We can just wing it, but Kira and I know how we feel and we’d like to try. With you.”

Malia narrowed her eyes at them before nodding slowly.

“OK.” She said simply, leaning back against the grass to bask in the afternoon.

“OK?” Kira asked, eyes going comically wide. 

“Uh, are you sure?” Scott said, expression mirroring Kira’s. 

Malia rolled her eyes, reaching up to pull Scott and Kira down until they were piled across her body.

“I said OK.” She laughed. “So how does this kissing thing work if there are three people, I feel like I might need some practice…”

The next time Kira kisses her, Scott leans in to breathe against her neck and Malia thinks the feeling is almost as good as shifting. 

Malia figured out how to shift back into a Coyote after her mother was killed. It wasn’t exactly happily ever after after that, but Malia thought it might be pretty damn close.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
